


Blood like Lemonade

by nishiki



Series: Thistle and Weeds [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead People, Death, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Overdosing, POV Ben Hargreeves, ben is klaus' guardian angel pretty much, drugs as a coping mechanism, dying, metions of prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishiki/pseuds/nishiki
Summary: The first time Ben becomes corporal, Klaus doesn't even remember.





	Blood like Lemonade

Being dead was no fun. Being dead and having to watch your own brother waste his life, was even worse. Being dead meant that he could come and go as he pleased and be where he wanted to be, of course, but it also meant that he had a front-row seat to the mistakes his brother Klaus made in life. Not that this would have been new in any way.

Maybe he had been a little naive thinking it would be different in death. Then again, why would it be different?

The truth about his death was simple. He had always known that his powers would be the death of him one day. He had never known why or how but he had known that the horror within him would someday devour him completely. Only three months before his seventeenth birthday, he had felt this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach grow stronger and stronger and when it finally happened, he had allowed it to happen. He could have fought back. He could have kept on going a little while longer but he hadn't. His only regret in dying was that he had died right next to Klaus - putting yet another scar on his soul that had already been ripped to shreds by all those ghosts and the terrors waiting for him in the dark.

The afterlife was a seriously strange place. Even though Ben had quickly realized what this new state of being was, he had had a hard time accepting it. Dying was one thing but dying and then lingering on like all those other ghosts that he knew were tormenting people like Klaus was a whole other can of worms. When he died, he had thought that he would pass on into Heaven or Hell or that he would slip into nothingness.

Instead, he had found himself at the scene of his death and didn't even know how much time would have passed. Time, he had soon realized, was of no importance when you are dead. It had taken him a long while to realize that he was not in fact bound to the place of his death, not forced to relive the horrors of it over and over again like one of Luther’s LPs that was stuck on a loop. He was free to go wherever he wanted to go. So much freedom, in fact, was a strange and vulnerable little thing to Ben.

Unlike Diego or Klaus, Ben had never been much of a rebel. He hadn't been content with their life at the academy either but he hadn't seen much sense in rebelling against father or his strict rules. He had played along, knowing that one day he would be free to go or die before that day would come. The truth of the matter was that Klaus was not the only one who had been weighed down by endless depression and the pure terror that came with their powers. But while Klaus had woken up screaming in the room next to his night after night, Ben had been able to swallow his fears and try to shut them out.

Being dead changed his perspective on a number of things. He wouldn't say that he was happy per se but being dead was somewhat of a relief in the beginning. However, being dead also meant that he could now see what Klaus saw every waking moment of his life. The ghosts that were tormenting his brother left him alone but that didn't change much about the fact that they were nasty sons of bitches.

He had first found Klaus a few months after his death. He had made it back to the academy and found himself mesmerized by that ugly black statue in the courtyard of his. Of course, his father would install a monument for yet another dead son. Ben had found himself wondering, as he stood there, how many more of those monuments and paintings would his father accumulate over the next few years. The next one to die would be Klaus. They had always known that.

After Five had vanished, Klaus had often said to him that he had thought that he would be the first to kick the bucket. But Five and Ben were gone and Klaus was still alive and kicking and no one seemed as annoyed by that fact as Klaus was, as Ben later found out.

He watched how his siblings left the mansion one after the other. When he first returned to the house, Klaus hadn't been there anymore. Diego was the next to leave, followed shortly by Vanya. Allison was the last to go, leaving Luther behind with their father.

It was then that Ben had found Klaus in an alleyway behind a bar shooting up heroin as if it would be normal.

Klaus and he had always had a close relationship. His earliest memory of his bubbly brother was when they were toddlers. Five had pushed him while they had been playing outside in the courtyard and Klaus had all but tackled the other boy to the ground in Ben’s defense. Needless to say, Klaus had never been a fighter and, in the end, it had been him who had been crying about the bruises Five had left him with. Looking back on it, he didn't even know anymore when he had first noticed Klaus’ drug abuse.

Perhaps when Klaus had started to roll blunts under the kitchen table during breakfast. Or before that? When he had walked in on him getting wasted on dad’s best whiskey only to puke all over their shared bathroom floor later? Perhaps the signs had always been there. Klaus was an addict in every sense of the word. He was an addict to drugs and alcohol and to people. Even as children, Ben had quickly realized that Klaus was clinging to him and Diego especially as if his life would depend on it or as if he was afraid he would float away if they wouldn't hold him down on the ground.

There had been a time in their life when his brother had outright refused to be anywhere where his favorite two brothers weren't at. He had been addicted to their presence and the comfort they could provide.

That had changed after the mausoleum.

He had grown more and more distant after the mausoleum, locking his bubbling emotions up more securely while letting others through. Suddenly, the sweet, caring boy Ben had grown to adore over their childhood, had changed into this loud, obnoxious caricature of himself. Suddenly, getting attention - _any_ kind of attention - had been better than being ignored. That was too when the split between Klaus and the rest of their siblings had happened. Funnily enough, looking back on their childhood, Klaus had somewhat been the mediator between all of them as a child. He had been smacked right in the middle of everything and everyone had gotten along with him. Until after the mausoleum.

Everything had changed after that. Not only for Klaus. Weirdly enough, after Klaus’ drastic change, the rest of them had changed as well, almost as if some sort of dark cloud had suddenly fallen upon the academy. In a way, Ben assumed, that was exactly what had happened. Back then he hadn't been able to see it but he could now that he had the necessary insight and peace of mind to reflect on everything. Shortly after the mausoleum, Five had disappeared and to this day, Klaus had refused to say that their brother was dead.

Now that Ben was dead, he believed him. Even months after his death, there was no sign of Five in the afterlife. Perhaps Klaus had been right all along and their brother wasn't dead. Or perhaps he had moved on. But why would Five, who was fueled by spite and never-ending pride, would move on just like this while Ben would be forced to stay down here? If anyone would stay down here because of some unfinished business, wouldn't it be Five?

As he finally found his brother Klaus in that alleyway with the needle in his arm, resting on the cold ground and leaning against the wall of the bar he had stumbled out of in a drunken haze, Ben thought that maybe his unfinished business was Klaus. He watched him from the corner of that same alley. Klaus looked like shit. He was not even eighteen years old yet and Klaus Hargreeves already looked as if he had a whole lifetime of trials and tribulations behind him.

In the half-light of a single flickering neon lamp that was mounted over the fire exit of the bar, Klaus looked like one of the ghosts his brother was surrounded by. Now that he was one himself, he could actually see them flocking towards his brother. At least Klaus seemed ignorant to them as he stared into nothingness with half-open green eyes.

He was thin. Of course, Klaus had always been thin and never been a big eater, to begin with, except for the times when Diego had sat him down and almost forced him to eat properly. Yet, he was much thinner than he remembered his brother. His face looked grey and gaunt, his hair had grown a little and was now a tangled curly mess on top of his head. His clothes were ripped here and there and showed much more skin than would be appropriate for the time of year. He had to be freezing. Then again, Klaus had always been freezing.

He noticed the stain on his dark shirt. Some white substance that- _Oh_.

He walked closer towards his brother but his eyes never shifted from the spot on the wall he was focussing on. »Jesus, Klaus.« Ben sighed as he crouched down next to his brother. It was pure instinct that made him reach out for the other boy as he tried to touch his head. Of course, his hand went right through him instead. It was an awkward, tingling little feeling he had yet to get used to. Of course, alive-people were not very considerate of the dead walking amongst them. They walked right through them all the time.

Maybe it was a bit of a stretch to think that Klaus might be the reason why he was stuck here. Yet, he hadn't been able to help his brother as he had been alive. Maybe it was his mission to help him now that he was dead. How was he supposed to do that, though, when Klaus was so drugged up that he wasn't even able to see Ben?

Ben quickly came to realize after he first found his brother and started following him around, that Klaus avoided being sober like the plague. He used every possible means of escapism from the ghosts and thus from Ben as well. He tried talking to Klaus - a lot. He tried screaming at him. He stayed with him like some kind of messed-up guardian angel while Klaus roamed the streets. This way, Ben was privy to the troubles Klaus got himself into on a regular basis.

Between the drugs, the alcohol and the sex with random guys for either money or drugs or sometimes even for fun, Klaus tried his hands in thieving and gambling. He was barely nineteen years old when he got first sentenced to prison for thievery. His attorney had reached out to their father, of course, but Ben knew, even without Klaus telling his attorney, that Klaus was dead to the old man. Sir Reginald might as well put up a statue or commission another portrait for Klaus. He simply didn't react to the letters or phone calls from Klaus’ attorney. Ben didn't even know if his siblings knew about Klaus being sent to prison.

Luther probably knew, after all, he lived in the old house but that Luther didn't want to help Klaus, was not very surprising. Allison was, according to the tabloids Ben had seen on street corners, too busy with her acting career to care about her wayward brother. And Diego … The last thing he had heard about Diego, he had gotten into the police academy. He probably didn't want to be associated with a convicted criminal.

Klaus didn't seem all that bothered by the prospect of going to prison. After his sentencing he humored one of the guards that he looked damn good in orange and later, in the prison bus, Klaus got the first of many punches to his face as he made fun of the fact that he would probably get passed around like a joint on a party in prison. However, Ben knew his brother better than this. Klaus was only hiding behind his stupid jokes and his loud-mouthed attitude. Not for a second Ben believed that Klaus would actually get clean in prison or at least clean enough to see Ben. If anyone could acquire drugs even behind bars, it would be his brother.

Three months in prison should straighten him out, the judge had said. He was still so very young, the judge had said. Klaus was lucky that his judge had been lenient with him and willing to give Klaus another chance. Ben knew though that his brother would probably ruin this second chance quickly. And he wasn't disappointed.

That same day when he got transported into jail, and even before the first withdrawal symptoms started, Klaus had already gotten high again. Ben had actually left the cellblock his brother was imprisoned in as Klaus had blown his cellmate for a little ecstasy. By now, he knew well enough what Klaus was willing to do and what he had already done to get his drugs or money for drugs. But knowing what he was doing was something else than actually having to witness it. When he returned to Klaus, his brother was high as a kite.

And that was how Klaus decided to spend his time in prison. Most of the time, he was high in some fashion. To the outside world, Klaus seemed unbothered by his time in prison but Ben knew his brother much better than this. If there was one thing other than being sober and seeing ghosts that Klaus hated with every fiber of his being, it was being locked up or for his freedom being taken away. He seemed to navigate through prison just fine for the first month or so but Ben quickly saw the first cracks appear on the surface.

Needless to say, though not everyone in prison was very fond of his brother, there were more than enough guys willing and ready to support his drug habit. Klaus had always had a magnetic kind of personality and even more so when he was on drugs - at least for those people who didn't know the sober Klaus and how much the drugs dulled his true colorful, magnetic, funny, kind personality. Klaus was a wild one with nineteen. He had always been a wild one in some way. In prison, however, he raised his wildness to entirely new levels.

And no matter how much Ben tried to make himself known to his brother, Klaus was never sober enough to actually pick up on his presence. He was numbing himself to the world and his experiences and Ben hated every second that he could only watch his brother waste his life with every day that would go by like this. three months in prison could be a very long time especially for someone like his brother who was so easily bored.

It was a frustrating situation to be in. He couldn't help his brother in any way. He couldn't make contact with him. All Ben could do was watch over him and look away when Klaus would do something that he didn't wish to see.

It wasn't even as if Ben could blame his brother for the want to be numb to his power and the pain that was connected to his power. If anyone knew what it meant to be terrified of one’s own power, it was Ben himself and Klaus had always been the one person who had been able to see that about him, who had been willing to help Ben as much as he could. Maybe that was why he was here now, watching as his brother sat in that dingy bar only two days after being released from prison, pick-pocketing and drinking his life away.

»You really should slow down, Dude.« Ben sighed as he sat on the barstool beside his brother watching Klaus down the fifth shot of whiskey already. »You just got out … you don't want to be thrown back in. Why don't you … I don't know, try to find Diego and ask him to help you get sober? I know you can, Bro. Plus, we would be able to talk when you are sober … Wouldn't that be great? Diego would certainly help you out, Klaus. He always wanted the best for you, after all.«

Of course, Klaus was oblivious to Ben’s presence. He had taken his last pill an hour ago. His pupils were blown so wide that they almost swallowed the most of the green in his eyes. Ben rather had Klaus take pills than heroin though. He hated nothing more than to see his brother with a needle in his arm.

»Hey, Punk!«

One of the guys Klaus had stolen from approached his brother. Shit. He had probably just realized that his brother had nicked his wallet a few minutes ago as he had brushed past him in the restroom. Why hadn't he just left? It was almost as if Klaus wanted to get in trouble! Of course, Klaus didn't react until the man was already behind him and grabbing his shoulder.

»I'm not in the mood, Darling.« Klaus scoffed as he allowed the other man to turn him around on his barstool. Klaus made a point of checking out the guy as if he truly meant what he was saying. »And you’re not my type either.«

The guy he was messing with was definitely a guy he shouldn't be messing with. He was at least in his fifties, clad in a leather biker vest, with blotchy skin, clearly had at least two beers too many and his friends behind him looking ready to slap a bitch. In this case, the bitch was his brother.

»You stole my wallet, you little faggot.« The man growled. Ben could almost see the itch in his fist to punch Klaus. He just waited for one stupid comment from Klaus. Knowing Klaus, he wouldn't have to wait long for that to happen.

»Klaus, don't.« Ben murmured and looked at the barkeeper for help. The man behind the counter was polishing glasses to put them back on the shelf. It was a slow night and he didn't seem in the mood for any kind of banter.

»Hey, Tom you know the rules!« The barkeeper suddenly chimed up as if he had seen the pleading look Ben shot him. »I don't want fights in my fucking bar! If he stole from you, call the cops.«

He could see Klaus going pale at once and Tom saw that too because a grin split his face in half. »I might just do that.«

»Jeez!« Klaus wheezed as he got up from his barstool, pulled a few dollar bills out of the left back pocket of his jeans and put them on the counter before he pulled out Tom’s wallet from the right pocket and threw it at him. »You guys are no fun, you know that? No reason to get the cops involved already. Look inside, I didn't take any of your money, Baby. Nice photo of your wife, though - a bit too young I would say but to each their own, I don't judge.«

His brother managed to maneuver past the group with a laugh as poor Tom caught his wallet and almost dropped it. Klaus was too quick for them to actually catch up on what he had just done and even Ben had a hard time following Klaus out of the bar and into the windy streets of this late night. The bar was in a quieter part of the town and so there weren't many people around that saw what was happening next. Ben was there, though, as his brother hurried into the alleyway next to the bar he just came out of.

Of course, Tom and his friends followed him. That had to have been expected because, of course, Klaus had emptied out Tom’s wallet beforehand. Throwing it at him had only served as a distraction to get a headstart.

»Why couldn't you just leave right away you idiot?«

»Where would have been the fun in that?«

Ben froze in his pursuit of his brother and stared at his back in surprise. Had Klaus just answered him? Was he actually seeing him and just refused to acknowledge Ben in any way? And if that was the case, since when had Klaus been seeing him already? Or were this the drugs talking out of his brother?

Klaus’ escape was stopped by a fence at the end of the alley. He was definitely athletic in his own way. Klaus had always been a fast runner with his long legs and he was quite flexible too but he was not a fighter and he was not someone who Ben saw climbing a metal fence anytime soon. Klaus go-to move when it came to fighting was to jump on other peoples backs most of the time and that wouldn't help him now in this situation against at least four pissed-off bikers that were trailing after him.

He was fucked and Ben could see it on Klaus’ face that Klaus knew this too as he turned around to face the group coming his way now. He couldn't move down the alley any farther because of the fence and he couldn't go back because the way back was blocked by a bunch of burly bikers who wanted to teach him some manners.

»Hey« Klaus smiled, stretching the word out as much as humanly possible. »Guys! How lovely to see you again and so quickly!«

The first punch came almost immediately as Tom had bridged the distance between Klaus and himself. Of course, Klaus was quick and dodged the punch only to get a knee to his stomach instead. Ben was helpless as he could only watch how his brother was beaten to a bloody pulp by those guys. Klaus did his best to fight back, but he was high and drunk and he was much thinner and weaker than those guys. It was not a fair fight by any means and Ben could do nothing but watch and scream at those assholes to leave Klaus alone as they kept kicking him while on the ground.

In the end, Tom bent down, pushed Klaus onto his front and shoved his meaty hand in his left back pocket to pull out the money Klaus had stored there.

»Next time you’ll come back, we won’t be so nice to your punk ass!« Tom shouted over his shoulder as he and his friends left and still Klaus managed to choke out a strangled little laugh.

»Oh, Honey, such a tease!« He wheezed out and it seemed sheer luck now that neither one of them came back to shut him up completely for this comment. They just left the alley and left Klaus where he was on the ground between trash cans, injured and alone. Ben had never felt more helpless than at this moment.

Of course, it wouldn't be the first time Klaus got his ass handed to him and most of the times he had deserved it as well and yet the fact that Ben had been there but unable to help his brother … It was just god-damn awful. Ben had always felt nothing but hatred for the Lovecraftian horror, this eldritch abomination that was living in his chest cavity, but would he still be alive this thing could have at least been useful in this situation.

As Ben crouched down next to his brother and drove a ghostly hand over his back, he wanted nothing more than to rip those assholes to shreds one by one for ever laying a hand on his brother. Never had he wished for Luther or Diego to come and help more than in this instance. And why wouldn't Klaus go to Diego? He could understand why he stayed away from  Luther, of course, but Diego? He wouldn't outright claim that Diego and Klaus had been close in the past but they had a certain bond, very similar to Ben and Klaus.

They were the ‘Even-number-squad’ as Vanya once said and they seemed connected by the general uselessness of their various powers. At least in the eyes of their father. Not that throwing knives with deadly precision, being able to talk to the dead or having a tentacle monster living inside of one was outright useless but … Well, super strength, mind-control, and teleportation seemed a much more useful thing compared to what Klaus, Diego, and Ben had to offer.

Either way, Ben knew that, if Klaus would call Diego and ask his brother for help, Diego would drop everything and come running. That's how it had always been.

»Fuck!« Klaus muttered under his heavy breathing that was only disrupted by pained groans as his brother slowly maneuvered his body into a sitting position against the fence. »Oh fuck…« He wanted to reach out and comfort him, he wanted to take care of his wounds and take care of him as he had in the past. But all he could do was sit on the ground and watch Klaus assess the damage - not that he seemed that bothered by it.

His nose was clearly broken, there was a nasty cut running through his left eyebrow and another running through his lips. His left eye was already swollen and the skin would probably bruise beautifully soon. His whole body would be covered in bruises in a few hours.

Klaus, however, pulled his right leg against his chest and took off his shoe.

»You got to be kidding me.« Ben mumbled as Klaus pulled out a few rolled up dollar bills.

»Idiots.« He muttered as he slowly put his shoe back on and clawed at the fence to pull his body upright.

»Please, Klaus! Call Diego! Come on! There was a payphone just down the street! Call Diego and ask him for help.« He knew that look of determination on Klaus’ face and he knew exactly what his brother was planning on doing with that money. But when he stepped in Klaus’ way, his brother just walked through him, shivered, and moved on.

He was helpless yet again as his brother walked down the street, hunched over and in pain. He had the face and the posture of a man about to do something incredibly stupid and that wasn't even a surprise. Ben knew the path his brother was taking. He knew where he was going. He knew where his feet were carrying him even before they ventured into the crappy part of town.

»How the fuck am I supposed to help you when you are always high and can't see me?« Ben groaned as he drove a hand through his hair. »Klaus, come on! Just go to Diego!«

But instead, Ben had to watch his brother finding his favorite dealer and greet him like a long lost friend. The encounter took a total of ten seconds as his brother gave the dealer most of the money he had left and got a small baggie of something that Ben had come to know as heroin in return. It broke his heart to watch his brother.

As he followed Klaus through the city and towards one of his favorite places to spend the night, Ben remembered the nights they had spent together. All those countless nights Klaus had come to him after a nightmare or when the ghosts wouldn't let him sleep. Now, after he had left their home, Klaus had no place to sleep. He slept in alleys, in parks, under bridges, in homeless shelters or in the beds of strangers.

It broke his heart to see him sleep in the dirt. It broke his heart to see him shiver in cold every night. It broke his heart when Klaus would follow some unnamed guy to a motel room or an apartment high or drunk without calculating the risk of actually getting killed. It broke his heart to see him so devalued even when Klaus refused to see it like this. To Klaus, it was all one big party. Perhaps, he really found joy in this. These days, it was so hard to look behind the facade. These days, the brother he knew so well, was almost like a stranger at times. His actions didn't make any sense.

In the end, Klaus ventured into one of those diners that were open 24/7, ordered a coffee with a charming smile and a wink at the waitress, emptied his mug, and retreated to the restroom. Ben knew the routine, by now. Klaus always did this when he needed a warm, safe place to stay. The refills were free and he liked coffee, so he could just sit in a booth and spend the night until the sun would creep up again. Perhaps he would later put on a tune on the jukebox and dance with the waitress. It wouldn't be the first time.

Klaus just had a way with people. He was charming when he wanted to. He was open and approachable with his big smiles and funny jokes. People liked him - as long as they didn't get to know him closer than this. Especially older women like this waitress tended to like Klaus. He made them feel special without being a threat, without being someone they needed to fear would try to hook up with them.

Ben didn't follow as Klaus went into the restroom. He knew what happened in there. He had seen it so many times before. Klaus would melt the heroin on the spoon he had nicked from his booth with the lighter he always carried around, fill up the syringe he had gotten from his dealer and would shoot the drug up his bloodstream. When he would come out, he would be loud and funny, bubbly and full of energy and he would tell the waitress that her coffee was the best he had ever tasted and that it might just wake up the dead.

So, Ben waited for the show to start.

Ten minutes after Klaus had first ventured into the restroom, Ben started to get restless. He had been with his brother the entire day. He had seen what he had taken over the course of the last twenty-four hours. Suddenly, worry started to creep up his spine at the thought and so he got up and walked over to the restrooms only to walk right through the door. Well, being a ghost sometimes had it's good sides too.

He found his brother on the floor of the stall furthest from the door.

His feet were the first thing Ben saw, sticking out from underneath the door, the stench of vomit filling the small restroom of the diner. And as Ben poked his head through the closed door of the stall, he could see his brother lying on the ground, next to the toilet, his self-made shoelace tourniquet around his arm and the needle and the spoon next to the toilet bowl. The floor was a mess and so was Klaus.

Ben’s heart dropped at the sight and if he would still have real skin, he would feel a shiver run through his entire body. An all-consuming panic gripped him tight as he pulled his head back and looked around. There was no one around to help and Klaus had been the only customer so late at night. The waitress probably thought he had escaped through the window of the restroom without paying! No one would come looking for Klaus!

»Fuck!« He breathed. »Fuck, Klaus! Do you wanna die so desperately? Dying sucks! Being dead sucks!«

He knew Klaus better than to actually think that his brother would want to die. He was just careless and self-destructive. He had lost track of how much he had already consumed. He didn't care whether he died or not but that was not the same as wanting to die. He tried to take a hold of his brother’s ankle and his hands slipped through it.

»Come on, Klaus!« He growled. »Come on, open up your goddamn eyes and get help! I can't help you!« His brother’s eyes flickered open with a moan as if he had heard him and, as if he had heard him, his gaze fell upon him. »Klaus, come on, man! The waitress is just outside! You need to call for help! You need to get help! I can’t do anything!«

There was a second when Klaus' mouth flickered into a crooked little smile before his eyes rolled back into his skull and he fell unconscious yet again.

»No, no, no, no, no! You can't do this to me, Klaus! How am I gonna move on from here when you die? You selfish fucking bastard, Klaus!« He slapped him and this time, his ghostly hand connected with Klaus’ cheek. The resounding slap echoed off the tiled walls of the restroom and for just a moment, he thought he had him back. But Klaus stayed unresponsive and Ben’s heart sank as he could pretty much see how the life drained from his brother’s body. He grabbed for his ankles yet again and he found his hands solid as he dragged his brother out of the stall. But the moment didn't hold. The moment he had dragged him out of the stall, his hands slipped through him again. Ben ran back outside. The waitress was just refilling Klaus’ mug.

»Help!« Ben yelled. »Help! My brother needs help! Please!« She looked up from her task and turned around as if she had heard him. »Please! Come on! He needs your help!«

The woman slowly set down the pitcher on Klaus’ table and looked around the room, clearly spooked by whatever she thought she had heard. But, in the end, she glanced at her wristwatch, then at the table and back to the door of the men’s restroom.

»Yes!« Ben gasped. »Yes, he needs your help! Please call an ambulance! He needs your help!«

The woman slowly marched over to the door of the men's restroom. She rapped her fingers against the door and listened intently to any kind of sound coming from inside. »Sir? Is everything alright in there, Sir?« She called out before she slowly pushed the door open just a bit. »Sir?« And as still no answer came from his brother, she opened the door completely, let out a shrill scream and rushed over to the phone that was mounted on the wall behind her counter.

Ben returned to Klaus’ side at this and crouched down next to him. The stench of vomit in the air would have made him gag if he would still be alive. Now, all he could do was sit next to his brother and brush his ghostly hand carefully over his back. He waited until the EMTs arrived. He watched them how they put him on a stretcher. He followed them outside and into the ambulance. He watched how they resuscitated Klaus twice on their way to the hospital.

He was there when the nurse at the hospital informed their father about Klaus being there after an overdose. Of course, the old man wouldn't show. No one showed up for Klaus. It was just Ben who sat at his bedside watching over him like he had so many times before, helpless to be any kind of comfort to his brother.

Klaus was still high on painkillers for his injuries as he opened his eyes for the first time. He had been out of it for hours and the sun was already high in the sky as his lashes started to flutter.  A groan escaped his lips. He looked so pale and frail as he laid there in this bed.

»You need to stop this, Dude … Really.« He hated it to see him like this. He hated it to see him so weak. He hated it so see him shoot up drugs all the time, hated it so see how Klaus was ruining his life and destroy his body. He wanted his brother back. His real brother. The one who sang badly under the shower and so loud everyone could hear it. The one who initiated their little dance parties when they were children.  »I don't know how long I can keep doing this, Klaus…«

It broke his heart.

»I’m sorry, Benny.« He almost slipped from his chair as he found Klaus’ eyes being directed at him. »I’m sorry.«

»You can see me?« Ben gasped and there was this crooked little smile again creeping up on his brother’s face as if all of this was only one big cosmic joke to him. »You fucking bastard!«

»I am high as a kite … You’re probably just another hallucination.« Klaus muttered more to himself than Ben, with a small chuckle. »I mean … no way you are here. Why would you be here? I tried so much to see you after your death. Why would you be here now?«

»I am here.« Ben muttered quietly as he reached out for him again and placed a hand on his shoulder. Of course, his hand just slipped through him but Klaus didn't seem to care. He just stared at him and for once, Ben felt that Klaus actually saw him.

»I am here. I told you I would never leave you.«


End file.
